


Base Stealing for Dummies

by XxmerthurcatxX



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Baseball, First Kiss, Fluff, Frottage, Idiots in Love, Like, M/M, Misunderstandings, Physical therapist Steve, Unresolved Sexual Tension, baseball player billy, billy is basically just like, minor description of injuries, ow my shoulder hurts fix it, that gets resolved of course
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-19 21:06:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19364125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XxmerthurcatxX/pseuds/XxmerthurcatxX
Summary: Billy is the pitcher for the Boston Red Sox and Steve is his long suffering, but stupid hot, physical therapist.





	Base Stealing for Dummies

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr @callmelilyshameless

Billy dug the toe of his cleats into the dirt, adjusting his hat so his ponytail was stuck out the back. Licking his thumb, he curled his fingers around the ball. He took a deep breath and turned his eye toward the batter, who was doing his own ritual, tightening the velcro straps on his gloves and cracking his neck first to one side and then the other. Squaring his shoulders, Billy put all his weight on his back leg. On his next exhale he lifted his left leg in time as he pulled his arm back, his body pitching forward as he three the ball. 

 

“STRIKE ONE!” the umpire yelled. 

 

Billy grinned, licking his bottom lip and catching the ball with ease as it was thrown back to him. The batter looked pissed, bearing down harder, his cleats dug deeper into the dirt. Billy took another breath before the second pitch, throwing another fast ball like the first. 

 

“STRIKE TWO!” the umpire yelled again. 

 

The crowd was cheering, shifting in their seats, restless as they waited for the final pitch of the game to be delivered. The whole team was on their feet now, poised to run onto the field if Billy managed to strike him out. He’d only gotten close to pitching a no hitter one other time and fuck if he was gonna screw it up again. This time he had home field advantage. 

 

The batter, Nelson, Billy was pretty sure it was, even though he couldn’t see the back of his jersey, grit his teeth in determination but nodded to Billy all the same. He knew what it meant. Respect; “If you strike me out I’m gonna be pissed as all hell, but I can still respect a killer game.” Billy nodded back. 

 

He adjusted his hat again, even though he didn’t need to, a nervous habit. Another breath as he drew his arm back. Another breath out as he threw a curve ball this time, an attempt to psych out Nelson and-

 

“STRIKE THREE!”

 

Billy had a split second to register the searing pain in his shoulder before his team was rushing on the field, cheering and slapping him on the back. Buckner threw an arm around his shoulders, a big grin on his face. 

 

“You did good kid!” he told him. 

 

Billy grinned back. He was still a little star struck around Buckner, not than anyone could blame him. He winced when he felt someone squeeze his shoulder. 

“You okay?” Buckner asked, frowning in concern. 

 

“Yeah,” Billy said, hissing in pain when he tried to move his shoulder. “Just a little sore,” he lied. It was more than a little sore. Definitely time for an appointment with Steve. Billy smirked at the thought. His shoulder might be fucked, but at least it meant a visit to the hot physical therapist.

 

XXXX

 

“Tell me, Hargrove. Do you get a kick out of not listening to my advice?” Steve asked, glaring at Billy as he walked into the room. 

 

He was wearing a light green polo shirt and a pair of khakis, looking like the epitome of prep as he set his clipboard down, crossing his arms and arching a brow waiting for Billy’s reply. 

 

“Come on Doc, I was on my way to a no hitter by the sixth inning. You can’t expect me to pull out. Not when I was so close,” Billy said, trying his best to hide a smirk when Steve blushed. Getting Steve to blush was one of Billy’s greatest pastimes. He looked so pretty, cheeks flushed as he nervously ran his fingers through his hair. 

 

Steve cleared his throat and shook his head as he took a quick glance at Billy’s chart, always trying to keep things between them professional despite Billy’s shameless flirting. 

 

“I think you know how this works by now,” Steve said with a sigh. “Shirt off if you don’t mind.”

 

Billy gripped the hem of his shirt, licking his lips and throwing a wink Steve’s way before he tugged his shirt off, wincing at the pain in his shoulder. 

 

Steve didn’t say a word as he moved into Billy’s space, fingers prodding at Billy’s shoulder, assessing the damage. God Billy hoped there wasn’t much damage. He snuck a peek at Steve’s face, trying to judge the severity from Steve’s expression, but his face was carefully neutral. 

 

“It’s definitely not torn or you’d be in way worse pain,” Steve said suddenly, knowing Billy would know he meant his rotator cuff. The most common injury for a pitcher. “The muscle is aggravated though, that’s for sure. When’s your next game?” he asked. 

 

“Next week,” Billy said. It was technically true. That’s when he was pitching next anyway. 

 

“Okay. If I give you some exercises to do, will you promise to actually do them?” 

 

Billy reached forward, giving the collar of Steve’s perfectly pressed polo a flick. 

 

“Anything for you, Harrington,” he said with a grin. 

 

Steve rolled his eyes, grabbing Billy’s wrist and gently pulling his arm across his chest for a gentle stretch. 

 

“You can do this one yourself at home. Either hold onto a door or put your hand to your shoulder and apply pressure. Not too much though. Just until you feel a stretch. And if it hurts, stop,” Steve told him and Billy was trying to listen, he really was, but he Steve was standing so close and Billy was having a hard time looking up from the freckles dotted on the column of Steve’s neck. 

 

Steve slid his hand up to Billy’s elbow, carefully bringing his arm up over his head, letting it bend, holding it in place. His cold fingers felt good against Billy’s warm skin. He ran hot. He always had. 

 

“This one you can do alone too. Honestly, the stretching is only going to get you so far. What you really need is rest. Use this arm as little as possible the next few days, alternate heat and cold, you know the drill,” Steve said. 

 

Billy nodded as Steve slowly brought his arm back down, trying to ignore how tight his jeans were feeling. He draped an arm across his lap as inconspicuously as possible, not wanting to alert Steve to his current problem. 

 

“You got it, Doc. Am I good to go?” Billy asked, suddenly eager to get out of there. Flirting was one thing, but popping a boner might actually send Steve running for the hills, which was the last thing Billy wanted to do. 

 

Steve gave him a long look, like he was trying to put his finger on something but couldn’t quite figure out what it was. For all his talk, Billy hadn’t quite figured out how to tell Steve he could put his finger on whatever he wanted. 

 

“Yeah, you can go. Try not to push it to hard or you’ll find yourself right back here,” Steve said, giving Billy’s shoulder a squeeze before picking up his clipboard and jotting down a few notes. 

 

Billy put his shirt back on as fast as he could without tweaking his shoulder again before hastily excusing himself. 

 

If he jerked off the second he got home, it was nobody's business but his own. 

 

XXXX

 

“Mr. Hargrove. Didn’t think I’d be seeing you so soon,” Steve said when he saw that once again it was Billy who was waiting for him in the examination room. 

 

It had been a month since Billy was in with his shoulder issue and things had been fine. He took Steve’s advice, took it easy, stretched, warmed up really well before his games. Things were fine. Until his knee gave out mid pitch. 

 

“Not my fault this time,” Billy told him honestly. “I did the stretches. I took it easy. Spent hours doing nothing, just laying flat on my back,” he said, tongue caught between his teeth. 

 

Steve huffed a laugh, shaking his head and rolling his eyes to try to hide his flushed cheeks. 

 

“Whatever you say. Lay back,” Steve instructed, and that was new. It made sense, considering it was his knee this time and not his shoulder, but Billy’s stomach still flipped at the thought of being laid out like this. Under Steve’s hands. Fuck, he was instantly regretting wearing the shorts he had on, dark green and too short. Yeah okay he’d had them since high school and he’d worn them cause they showed off his thighs and he liked showing off his body in front of Steve, but it was gonna be a hell of a lot more obvious if he popped a boner in these than it was in his jeans.

 

“Tell me if anything hurts,” Steve said, voice soft as his fingers curled around Billy’s knee, stretching out his leg to lie flat on the table. 

 

Billy closed his eyes as Steve started massaging around his knee for a minute before his fingers slid lower, squeezing at Billy’s calf, making him groan involuntarily. He was about to apologize when Steve spoke up. 

 

“Nothing pulled or sprained. Just gonna be sore for a few days from overuse. I’ll work on it for you for a little while now, get your muscles nice and loosened up and then it’s just like before; take it easy, keep it elevator, hot and cold.”

 

Billy nodded, taking a deep breath, trying to think of something, anything to make him less hot under the collar while Steve worked on him. The problem was, with Steve’s hands on it, it was almost impossible for him to think of something unsexy. His brain was in overdrive. The only thought he was capable of was _ Steve, Steve, Steve, Steve, St- _

 

“ _ Oh _ ,” Billy moaned as Steve’s fingers moved up to his thigh, kneading into the muscles hard with his thumbs. 

 

“Does it hurt?” Steve asked. 

 

Billy’s eyes fluttered open, blinking blearily up at Steve and shaking his head. 

 

“Not at all. Feels...nice,” he finished lamely, heart fluttering as he watched Steve swallow hard before turning his attention back to Billy’s thigh and oh, fuck, Billy couldn’t hold back another groan when Steve moved higher up on his thigh, his fingers slipping just under the hem of his shorts. 

 

Billy was mortified when he felt his dick getting hard. God, he was supposed to have more control over his body than this. It’s not like he was a teenager anymore. 

 

“S-Steve,” he stuttered, hips jerking just a little.

 

He didn’t miss the sharp inhale of Steve’s breath, or the way his fingers twitched against his thigh. Billy bit his lip to keep from letting out another embarrassing noise as Steve bent his leg and the knee, then continued to push until his leg hinged at the hip, getting a deep stretch in the back of his thigh. 

 

Billy’s mind drifted to thoughts of Steve pushing his legs up and apart like this so he could slide between them. So he could crawl over Billy and have his wicked way with him and fuck, Billy would let him. 

 

Steve abruptly stopped touching him, turning without a word to grab his clipboard. Billy sat up a little too quickly, face flushed red with shame as he tried to sneakily adjust himself in his shorts. 

 

“It’s okay, ya know,” Steve said quietly. 

 

“Huh?” Billy asked, the haze of lust in his brain still a little too thick for him to be thinking clearly. 

 

“That you have a...” he trailed off, clearing his throat as he turned back around to face Billy. “I mean, it happens all the time. It’s a natural reaction. If I told you some of the athletes I’ve worked on who have been... _ affected _ like that, you’d be a lot less embarrassed, trust me,” Steve said, offering a shy smile that was ten kinds of endearing. 

 

“Right. Um, I’m still sorry. Gotta be pretty awkward,” Billy said, running and hand through his curls nervously. 

 

Steve shrugged. 

 

“You get used to it.”

 

Despite Steve’s insistence that it was normal, Billy still high tailed it out of there. One of these days he was going to have to learn to control himself. Otherwise he was going to do something really stupid like ask Steve out. 

 

XXXX

 

Billy asked Steve out. 

 

Sort of. 

 

It was a home game and they’d fucking wrecked the other team. The Yankees. Anyone who watched baseball knew about their decades old rivalry and beating them always left the whole city of Boston fucking wild for the night. 

 

Naturally that meant the whole team was going out for drinks and, because Billy couldn’t hold himself back anymore, he invited Steve. Who accepted. Which is how he found himself very tipsily stumbling down the street toward his apartment, an arm wrapped loosely around Steve’s shoulders. 

 

“Glad you came out tonight, Steeeeve,” he said, giggling drunkenly at his own voice. He hadn’t even had much to drink, he was just riding high off the win. 

 

“Me too,” Steve said, knocking into Billy as he steered them down the alley next to his building, sending Billy stumbling back into the wall on his shaky legs, tugging Steve with him so they were chest to chest. 

 

The laughed, leaning on each other for support. They seemed to realize how close they were at the same moment and maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was the high from winning or maybe it was because Steve looked fucking beautiful even in the dim glow from the nearby streetlight. Whatever it was, Billy couldn’t help himself. He pulled Steve forward by the ridiculous tie he’d worn that evening and kissed him soundly. 

 

Steve let out a sound akin to a squeak against his mouth his shoulders tense under Billy’s hands, but something gave way and suddenly he was pressing back into the kiss, his fingers digging to Billy’s hips. 

 

“Fuck,” Billy cursed when he broke the kiss, sliding his hands up the back of Steve’s shirt, dragging his nails down the broad planes of his back as Steve started to rut against him. At some point one of his thighs had slipped between Billy’s, giving the other boy something to press against to gain some much needed friction. “God, you feel-

 

“You too,” Steve groaned, running his fingers through Billy’s curls. 

 

Clearly preppy, put together, professional Steve had left the building and been replaced by dirty, filthy, not afraid to go after what he wants Steve who was thrusting against Billy and sliding his tongue into tongue into his mouth. It made Billy dizzy, as did the way Steve couldn’t seem to keep his voice down.

 

“I-I’m not gonna last much longer. Billy, I-

 

He cut off with a choked off cry as Billy bit at his neck, right where those two freckles that had driven him insane for months sat, his tongue flicking out to soothe the bite. 

 

“S’okay baby, want you to come,” Billy murmured, voice low, resonating against Steve’s ear. “I’m there with you. I’m right fucking there. Come on Steve, come with me,” he whined. 

 

Steve apparently didn’t need to be told twice as he tensed against Billy, hips stuttering and a pretty moan sliding past his lips as he came, the sight enough to send Billy over the edge after him, his head thrown back and his mouth dropping open. Billy couldn’t remember the last time he’d come in his pants. Not since he was a teenager. 

 

“Mmm, that was fun,” Steve said, smiling lazily at Billy as he leaned back a little bit. 

 

Billy laughed, pushing Steve’s hair back from his sweat slick forehead and kissing his cheek. 

 

“Yah know, I live right upstairs,” he said, trying for casual but knowing he probably sounded more than a little hopeful. 

 

Steve hummed thoughtfully, nudging Billy’s nose with his. 

 

“Lead the way.”

 

XXXX

 

Steve was avoiding him. 

 

And okay, it’s not like Billy expected them to be boyfriends now or anything, but he sure as hell hadn’t expected to wake up after what was definitely one of the best nights of his life, to an empty bed. 

 

They didn’t have sex. Not all the way anyway, but Billy had found out exactly how talented Steve was with his fingers. Plus he finally got his mouth on Steve’s cock and he’d remember for the rest of his life the way Steve’s toes had curls, thighs clenching around Billy’s head and fingers fisted in his hair as he came.

 

He thought maybe Steve needed to get to work. But when he’d called to see if Steve was in, since they should probably talk about what happened, it had gone straight to voicemail. 

 

When Steve didn’t return his call, he tried again a few days later, but his secretary said he was out. 

 

What really clinched it was when he called to make an appointment, partially because he wanted to see Steve but also because his shoulder was bothering him again, and Steve’s secretary referred him to a different therapist. 

 

So yeah, needless to say, Billy was a little off his game next time he was on the field. 

 

“Hey kid, what’s eatin ya?” Buckner asked, plunking down next to him on the bench in the dugout. 

 

“Nothing,” Billy grunted, rubbing at his shoulder and willing the pain to go away before he had to go back out and pitch. 

 

“Bullshit. You’ve been off with your throws all game, so tell me what’s up so I can help you fix it and we can go back to kicking ass.”

 

Billy sighed. 

 

“There’s...there’s this guy. And we...but not he’s avoiding me. So there’s that. Plus my shoulder might be fucked cause I can’t get the pain to go away no matter what I do,” Billy admitted. 

 

“Why don’t you go see Steve?” he asked. 

 

Billy gave him a long look, willing him to understand what he was trying to say without him actually having to say it. Luckily Buckner was smart. 

 

“Ah. It’s Steve isn’t it? That explains a lot. As much as I’d love to help with your dating life, first and foremost, you need to get your shoulder checked out. You’re way too young for your career to end just because you’ve got the hots for your physical therapist,” he said, cutting Billy off when he opened his mouth to protest. “I mean it. Coach can sub in someone else while you go get that looked at. If you don’t wanna tell him, I will.” 

 

Billy snuck a peek at their coach, watching him yell at his assistant before hastily getting to his feet. 

 

“I owe you one,” Billy said, giving Buckner a fist bump before high tailing it out of there. He was definitely gonna catch shit for it later, but Buckner was right. No guy was worth ending his career over. Although Billy had a feeling Steve was worth pretty much everything. 

 

XXXX

 

Billy burst into Steve’s office still in his baseball uniform, having flirted his way past his secretary. Steve jumped, looking up from the notebook in his lap, eyes wide when they landed on Billy, who was already struggling to get his jersey off. 

 

“What are-

 

“Look, I know you don’t want to see me, but I-I think I really fucked up my shoulder and I need you to look at it because if I need surgery I need to know now so I know if I’m gonna be benched for the rest of the fucking season and I know it takes a long time to heal so I-

 

“Whoa, Billy, calm down,” Steve said, placing a gentle hand on Billy’s uninjured shoulder and helping to steer him over to sit on the table. “Let me look at it before you freak out.”

 

Billy nodded, keeping quiet while Steve assessed the damage, pulling Billy’s sleeve down over his shoulder so he could move his fingers along it, prodding at the muscles. He lifted Billy’s arm, frowning with the other boy hissed in pain, then carefully moved it back and forth. 

 

“It’s not a tear,” Steve decided finally. “It’s swollen as hell from overuse, but as long as you do the usual exercises and get plenty of rest, if should be fine. Jesus, did you even warm up before your game?”

 

“I’ve been a little...off lately,” Billy said quietly, wary as he met Steve’s eye. 

 

Steve swallowed, trying to take a step back but Billy caught him by the wrist, his hold firm but gentle as he stroked the skin of Steve’s wrist with his thumb. 

 

“You’ve been avoiding me,” Billy murmured, not accusatory, but still wanting answers. 

 

“I’m sorry,” Steve said quietly. 

 

“Sorry you’ve been avoiding me or sorry that we...” he trailed off. 

 

Steve shook his head, looking down at his feet and Billy could feel his heart starting to break. 

 

“Look, I understand if it was a mistake for you but it wasn’t for me,” Billy said, letting go of Steve’s wrist and hopping off the table. “And I’m sorry. I’m sorry I came to see you even though I knew you didn’t want to see me. I can find a new physical therapist okay? You’ll never have to see me again,” Billy promised, voice thick with emotion because he thought that maybe he could have this. Maybe he could have Steve. But the longer Steve stayed silent, the less likely it seemed. 

 

Billy pushed past Steve, not even bothering to button his jersey back up as he headed for the door. 

 

“It wasn’t a mistake.”

 

Billy paused, hand on the doorknob. 

 

“What?” he asked, turning back around slowly. 

 

“It...It wasn’t a mistake. God, Billy, it could never be a mistake. Not with you,” Steve said, running his hand through his hair. 

 

“Then why-

 

“Because you’re my patient! It was super unprofessional. Not to mention you were drunk and I took advantage of you and I’m sorry! I’m so sorry,” Steve said, looking like he might cry now. 

“Okay, first of all, I wasn’t drunk. I had like two beers. I mean, I was a little high coming off that win, but my mind was clear. Believe me I knew what I was doing,” Billy assured him, taking a tentative step toward Steve, trying not to get his hopes up too high. 

 

“It’s been so hard, having you spread out on that table, getting to put my hands on you. When I finally had you underneath me that night, I thought I was dreaming,” Steve told him, blushing as he nibbled his bottom lip, looking at Billy shyly. 

 

Billy grinned, emboldened by Steve’s words, and closed the distance between them, kissing Steve softly. Relief swept through him when he felt Steve’s hands circle his waist, yanking him closer. 

 

“This mean I can take you out on a real date next time?” Billy asked, draping his arms over Steve’s shoulders, too happy to care about the pain in his shoulder for the moment. 

 

“I’m really not supposed to date patients,” Steve said, but then he was kissing Billy again so he figured he could take that as a yes. 

 

XXXX

 

“Mr. Hargrove! Is there anything you’d like to say to the fans!” 

 

Billy turned to the reporter, snapping his gum and smirking. 

 

“Yeah, there is,” he said, gesturing for the camera man to come a little closer as he winked and blew a kiss. “Gonna win this one for you,  _ pretty boy _ .”

 

Billy knew, wherever Steve was, he was blushing. 


End file.
